Roomies
by Twinings
Summary: Long before the Batman, before Arkham and the DA's office, there were two guys in an apartment.


_Note: written for the Free-For-All-Fic-For-All at the AskTheSquishykins tumblr._

_Prompt: Two-Face and Scarecrow in a domestic relationship  
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><p>The summer before his first year of law school, Harvey Dent moves into an apartment off campus. It's pocket-sized even by his standards, and he grew up in the Narrows. There's a faint smell of mold coming from behind the oven, which was missing its door when he moved in. He never uses the kitchen anyway; the window over the sink looks out on a brick wall, and the hot water comes out brown.<p>

Harvey can barely get into his room. Opening the door more than halfway knocks it into the refrigerator. The wood is split from the previous tenant's carelessness in coming in and out.

Maybe he should have given that bedroom to his roommate. The guy's a stick. He wouldn't even have to turn sideways. But by the time he thinks of it, they're both already settled in, and he feels awkward bringing it up.

Jonathan doesn't come out of his room much, and when he does, he hardly says a word. He spends most of his time out of the apartment, either in class or at work. When he's home, he's studying. Occasionally, Harvey finds him passed out over an open textbook at the kitchen table (which is really more a stack of plastic boxes taken from behind the supermarket in the middle of the night) but he usually does his work in his room.

It's okay. He doesn't play loud music in the middle of the night, and he always pays his half of the rent on time. Harvey can deal with quiet.

The one time he initiates a conversation, it's to complain that Harvey keeps leaving his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. If he's being a slob, it's not intentional. He's just never lived with anyone who cared what he did with his laundry before.

He can't help laughing at the sight of a future doctor who's too squeamish to pick up a pair of underwear with more than his thumb and forefinger. Jonathan gets red in the face. Harvey doesn't see him again for days, and when he does, they don't talk.

It's not until midterms are coming up that they have an actual conversation.

Harvey comes home from class to find Jonathan sitting in the living room with his head in his hands, staring straight ahead and shaking. He's clutching a book bag with a long rip through one of the seams. Loose papers covered with densely written notes are scattered all over the floor. Harvey feels overwhelmed himself, just looking at it.

"You, um…dropped something," he says awkwardly. Jonathan doesn't look at him.

"Everything's out of order." His voice sounds hollow.

"It's not the end of the world. Really."

"I'll never get it all straightened out. I don't know any of the material. None of these words make any sense when I try to read them. I'm going to fail my midterms. I'll lose my scholarships. I'll have to quit school and go back to Georgia and spend the rest of my life growing corn." He finally looks at Harvey. He looks like he's going to throw up. "I don't want to go back to Georgia. I hate corn."

Harvey grabs his roommate by the arm.

"You need a beer."

"I don't drink…"

But he lets Harvey drag him out the door.

"That's your problem. You don't do _anything_ but work. Of _course_ you're going to get burned out and stop being able to focus. Trust me. Have a couple of drinks at Egan's, listen to some good music, maybe talk to an actual human being for a change. Studying is so much easier after a break."

"But…" Jonathan says plaintively, casting a long look at their door as Harvey leads him away. He doesn't argue any further than that.

Jonathan is lost when it comes to ordering a beer, so Harvey gets them each a Steel Reserve. It's his favorite, cheap, tasty, and high in alcohol. Jonathan makes a face when he tastes his, but when he sees Harvey drinking, he seems determined to keep up.

When they finish, Harvey is smiling like a doofus. Beer makes him a happy drunk. Jonathan still doesn't look happy, but his posture has relaxed a little. He looks at least four steps away from a nervous breakdown, a distinct improvement.

Harvey starts to order a second round. Jonathan shakes his head. He won't speak up loud enough to be heard over the band, but eventually Harvey gathers that his wallet is empty and he's embarrassed about it. Harvey goes ahead and orders. He has enough for one good Friday night, and he's feeling generous.

After those, when Jonathan is leaning on the bar looking bemused, Harvey thinks about ordering shots and sending some to the two pretty girls at the end of the bar. But he's starting to learn that he doesn't like the side of him that comes out when he drinks hard liquor. He just gets more beer instead.

"What do you think of her?" he asks Jonathan, pointing out one of the girls. He knows her slightly from an ethics class he had as an undergrad. Preachy as hell, but she was a nice girl, and almost too cute to exist outside one of those anime shows.

Jonathan looks confused.

"What? What about her?"

"You should go talk to her."

"Um…She's not my type."

Harvey has to look again to make sure they're talking about the same person.

"What, are you gay?" Jonathan looks terrified. "It's not a big deal if you are," he says hastily.

"It is where I come from! You don't just _say_ that in a bar full of _frat boys!_"

"Sorry, sorry." They both drink.

"I'm not," Jonathan says as an afterthought. "I just don't like brunettes."

Harvey nods, although he doesn't really understand. The brainy brunette is, in his opinion, entirely underrated, and one of the most beautiful kinds of women a man could ever see, right up there with the paint-spattered artistic type or the green-eyed vixen.

"How about the blonde?" Harvey suggests. She's cute, too, in a schoolgirlish sort of way. He doesn't think he could deal with the cutesy pigtails and constant giggling, but for all he knows that could be just what Jonathan's after.

Or not. Jonathan takes one look at her and downs the rest of his beer.

"You should slow down," Harvey suggests.

Jonathan turns to look at him, and has to grab onto the bar for support. Harvey realizes he should have given his roommate that advice several beers ago. He can't even remember how many they've had.

"Jonathan?"

"Me!"

"Okay, then. Ready to go home?"

"Go home?" Jonathan repeats. Harvey takes that as a yes.

He tosses the bartender the last of his cash as a tip, and leads Jonathan out onto the street. It's a relief to get out of the noise and the cigarette smoke and the heat of too many bodies in too small a space. His head is swimming. Jonathan can barely stand up.

It's a good thing their apartment is only a block away. Jonathan has to lean against the door as Harvey fumbles to unlock it.

"She _was_ pretty," he mumbles, as if he needs confirmation.

"She was pretty," Harvey agrees. "You should have talked to her."

The door opens. They both stumble into the room. Jonathan is laughing as he collapses onto the couch.

"_Too_ pretty. I don't know how to talk to girls."

"F-what?" They're both laughing now. "_Why_? Didn't you know those girls were checking you out?"

"What?"

"_All_ the girls were checking you out."

"_What?_"

Harvey shoves Jonathan's legs out of the way and flops down next to him.

"You're a pretty-boy."

Jonathan finds that hysterical.

"Girls like guys like _you_. They call you Apollo. You're a like Greek god. I'm like a twelve-year-old girl."

"Guys like girls like you." Harvey's not sure that came out right, but he plows ahead. "You're…" He waves his hand at Jonathan. "I'm…" He waves his hand again.

"You have that manly square jaw of square-jawed manliness." His head tips back. He seems to have lost his capacity for short-term memory.

"I have a butt chin," Harvey blurts. Jonathan sputters with laughter.

"You have the butt of a Greek chin!"

Harvey manages to focus on Jonathan's face. Everything else in the room seems to be spinning out of control.

"You…have…blue…eyes."

Jonathan looks bemused.

Harvey throws up in his lap.

Years later, when they're both working for the D.A.'s office, Harvey and the cute brunette will fight each other for almost every case. But he's not so ambitious that he won't let her have everything relating to Jonathan Crane. He never tells her why, but he feels it's a conflict of interest.


End file.
